The Razor's Edge
by Anatomy Melancholia
Summary: Difficult, dangerous and complicated...all the drama of a relationship plays out in the bedroom. 'Dark Smut' warning.


Disclaimer: WB owns 'Moonlight.' I make no money off this.

AN: I've been told that it's disturbing in parts. You have been warned.

Apologies to Mr. Maughm for entirely ripping off his title.

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Mick swallowed hoarsely, finding that his body was hardening in the most unusual places. His palms felt rough and thick with sweat, legs swelling as he settled himself firmly against the sheets; the cords in his neck sprang out.

He was terrified and it was turning her on - badly. He was so much bigger usually; when he held her, she felt herself shrink into something fragile and delicate.

"I'm not sure this is a good idea," he told her, dry-mouthed.

"Why not?"

Mick watched the hot liquid ooze around a small, white, plastic spatula as she stirred. "What temperature is that at?"

She sucked gently at the dripping liquid. "Chocolate melts best at a hundred and four degrees," parroting the website she'd poured over.

_Fuck_. "Heat is not a good thing, Beth. I could seriously hurt you if-if you hurt me."

She smiled at the straps on his arms and straddled him. The tiny crock pot swung from two fingers.

"You're afraid?" Beth crooned softly. "My vampire is afraid?"

The molten chocolate seared a nipple and he cried out. Then her cool, human tongue arrived, lapping gently at the sting. "Sssssh," she said between mouthfuls. "I'll make it better."

"Better..." Mick echoed, his voice thin and high with strain.

Beth moved to his throat, fingers dabbing all along the static arteries. He felt his blood start to pump under her questing lips.

"Please," he begged. "They're not going to hold."

She bit his temple by way of answer, bare breasts pressing tight against him. "You taste different."

"You're sweating," she said and smiled. A playful dab of chocolate on his nose and she laughed out loud, head tilted back, as his eyes crossed to glare at the offending spot. "Mmmm, spicy."

And he could suddenly _smell _her mixed with his skin, the damp pressure of her tongue so close that if he inhaled he was sure he'd sense all the way to her very soul.

"What?" Mick croaked.

But she was already moving lower, the spatula slurping through the filled pot.

He started to tremble; it was a big pot. Probably fifty millilitres at least in there. He wasn't going to make it if she moved much further down...

Beth stopped as he fisted a hand in her hair. "Mick-"

"Please? I love you. I love this, but I can't. Not with heat."

His eyes followed hers to the torn binding. "It's just velcro, Beth. It wouldn't hold a human, never mind a vampire."

"It's not meant to hold you against your will," she said shortly. "It's meant to be about trust."

"Trust is hurting me?" He was reaching for Beth, aiming for her cheek, searching for the comfort of warm skin.

"No. Stop." Beth slapped his hand away. "You take a bullet every week or so and write it off but this is too much for more than a minute? You're a vampire. When we're in bed, I have to give in to a _vampire_."

Mick stopped dead.

Blue eyes opened wide as the words settled into memory. She moved off him, stunned, as though the words were never meant to be said aloud.

She didn't meet his eyes.

"I love you," she said finally, lifting a firm chin towards him. "And yes, the sex is..." Beth paused slightly, searching for the right words. "Inhumanly good," she concluded. "Impossibly good."

Mick felt the other binding snap. "Inhuman."

"You are."

"Yes."

Face flaming, she hurried on. "I'm not scared but...it does take courage. It's different when you change... You're _supposed_ to be something else when you come."

"Beth-"

"It would be easy - to be afraid. But I'm not! You don't frighten me. You just...scare me because of what I accept with you. Can't you do the same for me?"

He was on his knees, still half-hard. "You think it'll feel good if I rip your throat out?" And stopped at her expression. "No. No, I wouldn't. Not that. I- Pain can be an aphrodisiac but what happens if I hurt you? You don't understand, Beth."

"It hurts when you bite me."

He shrank.

"You just need to get used to it. Enjoy it..."

He just sat there, not breathing.

She moved slowly, not wanting to fill the space between them just yet: right knee, left knee, right hand spread for balace, eyes fixed on each other.

Mick dropped his head as her left hand touched his cheekbone. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"The first time you bit me."

He moaned softly.

"No, look at me," Beth commanded. "The first time you bit me, it hurt." She curled the fingers round the back of his skull, forcing her wrist against him. "I didn't know what to expect. I was so scared you were going to die."

Mick raised his head slowly, eyes shut tight, nose twitching against the blood pumping roughly against him.

_That's it._ Beth smiled.

"At first it felt like a stab wound," she said softly. "So intense."

He was nuzzling gently and she let the memory wash over her.

They both shuddered at the onslaught. Her hips moved unconsciously against the sheet, letting the material drag against her.

"Beth-"

"I thought it was going to be like giving blood."

He laughed against her wrist.

"I know," Beth smiled, eyes closed tight. "I don't know how to describe what it's like. It's like... you're inside me, everywhere, it's like you're pulling fuses everywhere."

"It's like," he said softly, "your pussy's on fire and and I'm sucking you from the inside out."

"God, _please_..."

She braced herself.

Mick barely broke skin, not even deep enough for pinpricks.

Beth stared at him wide-eyed as he licked the faded scars.

"The chocolate's drying," he rasped. "And I'm hungry." He stretched out the arm, scenting along the length of the artery.

A sharp inhalation and he appeared pressed up against the front of her, matching her, breath for breath, sigh for sigh.

"I'm hungry." Mick smiled. "And, if I'm not mistaken, so are you."

"Yes."

"Yes..."

He took the chocolate from her and spread a generous amount over one shoulder.

"This," he said, beginning to lick, "Is a joint. Vampires love joints. When vampires have sex, at least one joint is dislocated in the pleasure."

His hands found their way to her breasts, chill fingers tickled the undersides.

"How does it taste?" Beth sighed. "Can you taste it?"

The words came intermittently, punctuated with long, dragging sounds of his tongue. "I taste you. It tastes of ash, but it smells of chocolate. If I block the taste, I can taste the smell. I can see fingers picking cocoa beans."

He plucked at her tight nipples, mouth registering every quiver and shake against him.

"When vampires fuck, we like pain. It makes everything feel good. It makes us lose control."

"Yes...please, yes."

"Mmm...when vampires fuck-" He stopped to push her down, sliding the crock pot above her head.

"I fucked a vampire," she said breathlessly.

"Yes and no."

When he smiled, all she saw was fangs.

"You've fucked a vampire, but the vampire hasn't fucked you. Not yet, not like this."

Her eyes grew wide and then,"S-Show me."

Mick watched her stutter around the need and reared. When he struck, the teeth held fast and the flesh crumbled beneath the assault like butter.

She screamed as his wrist suddenly poured blood. It mixed with the sweat on her breasts, rolled over her shoulders and sank into her hair.

Mick pulled his fist lower, the slowing trickles bouncing gently against her stomach. He pumped his fist lightly as the wound closed over.

She was intoxicated with fear. So glorious, he wanted to sing. So he did, the snarls leaving his throat as he whisked his hands across her, smearing the blood into the grain of her flesh.

Then he bent low to her sternum and curled his tongue against her and began to lick her like a snake.

He took Beth's breath away.

"Are you going to eat me?" she whispered as he hovered over her collarbones.

"Maybe later." The taste of himself on her skin was driving him crazy, every mouthful branded her and branded him. She was taking over his mouth, his tongue, oesophagus, diaphragm, larynx that was toneless except for the snarls that sounded of 'Beth Beth Beth'... his stomach. He could feel her heating up the blood, clotting him into a second skin, so he worked faster, tongue dipping and diving into crevices and creases.

Finally, Mick dug his tongue into her belly button and stopped short, the taste suddenly souring in his mouth. The blood had coagulated into a thick, solid substance, her pumping hips and clenching stomach muscles pushing it firm as he worked her upper torso.

A lump of blood in her body. A blood clot big enough to taste. Riddled through with the grains of human decay. He'd gone far too far. He couldn't eat this one.

"Mick!" She pulled his head closer to her. She was so sticky, so close. "Don't stop."

It sat on his tongue like a sacrament, the soft, sticky glut of it choking his senses. Sanity returned and he half-gagged from the dead taste clouding his mind.

"Show me," she cried out.

Sweat beaded on Mick's forehead. There was no way to spit it out. It was his blood, he could if he wanted to. Surely he could if he wanted to. No, he couldn't. Not now. Not while she was lying there. She trusted him – he would terrify her if he spat out blood.

"Mick?"

Sanity was returning. He could feel her hunger abate. And he didn't want her to see what he'd done to her – not yet, not when she was unfulfilled.

It burned all the way down his throat and Mick fought the heaving as he buried himself inside her unceremoniously.

"When vampires fuck..." Beth gasped against him, her words peaking and falling in time with his thrusts. "_Yes_..."

It was like a sucker-punch every time he pounded back in to her - the heat, the wetness dragging his mind from its moorings.

Between them he could feel the slap of their bellies, sweat and blood mingling into a thick paint, gluing them. He needed a new taste; Mick sucked desperately at her sodden hair.

"Beth..." he murmured, eyes draining back into colour for a moment. "I- I need fresh blood."

"Yes, yes! Blood." Her hands were in his hair and her hips were moving, pussy pumping cum and blood just under the surface.

Beth was swimming in gore, drunk on the scent of sweat and sex. Her tongue hung limp in the back of her throat, eyes bursting against the pressure of lids squeezed shut. She heard the noises, she felt them moving and it didn't matter. She heard words and repeated them just to let him know she was still there.

Everything was pulsing as he wedged himself into her again and again and...

Mick reached under her and pulled her hips higher.

It was so good it hurt.

Her head was thrashing against the pillow, the loud shouts overwhelming him. He was so hot his skin was melting, fusing with hers. He was going to go mad. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

She needed to come. He needed Beth to come so he could.

"Come for me, baby." Fangs collided with her ear.

Too late.

"I can't," she cried. "It's too much...bite me. Bite me so I can come."

He lifted himself slightly, arms bracing on either side of her as he threw his head back and growled.

And then was a burning sensation deep inside her that twinged on the edges of consciousness. She ached. So painful, and she was powerless to stop the whimper. And then it morphed as he sucked against her, the tug winding its way around her heart-beat and deep into her.

Beth didn't realise she was screaming until she felt the fingers force themselves into her mouth, the chocolate coating her tongue. She bit down to hold them in place and then sucked him dry everywhere they were connected.

When he finally collapsed against her, she was sucking contentedly, her mouth moving gently as a sleeping baby's. Mick curled against her slightly, tremors still wracking him, and felt her arms enclose him. He slipped his fingers out and curled them round a matted clump of her hair.

After long minutes had passed, he felt her shift slightly. The movement grated across his sensitized stomach, breaking the fine layer of bloody mulch between them.

He eased out and lay beside her, watching the shuttered face. "Beth?"

She whimpered as her legs began to stretch themselves. "Sore," she whispered. "Sore, Mick."

He lifted her gently, peeling her hair away from the crusted sheets.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No. I love you."

She lay quietly in his arms as he walked to the shower.


End file.
